


Distant Memory

by originalgrissel



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalgrissel/pseuds/originalgrissel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The drink he ordered still sits untouched on the bar as he watches her on the dance floor- eyes closed, arms twisting in the air above her head, hips grinding to the throbbing rhythm. </p>
<p>He doesn’t know her name this time, or exactly what she does for a living, but none of that’s really important anyway. He just knows that she’s the one. She always is."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distant Memory

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an AU ficlet. It's pre- "Flesh & Bone" and takes place more than a year before the Cylon attack on the Colonies. I'd like to think that it's what could have taken place before the "First" meeting between Starbuck and Leoben on the Geminon Traveler. Being the hard drinking, reckless, sexually charge gal we all know Kara to be it wouldn't have been beyond the realm of possibility for this to have happened and for the drunken encounter to have quickly become a very distant memory.
> 
> This fic does contain het-porn so if that's not your thing or you have a moral objection to Cylon/Human frakking, you might want to steer clear.  
> Originally posted to LJ Mar. 30th, 2007. Unbated- all mistakes are my own.  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The drink he ordered still sits untouched on the bar as he watches her on the dance floor- eyes closed, arms twisting in the air above her head, hips grinding to the throbbing rhythm. 

He doesn’t know her name this time, or exactly what she does for a living, but none of that’s really important anyway. He just knows that she’s the one. She always is. 

Tossing down some cash he shoves away from the bar, making his way through the crowd packing the club, making his way closer to her. As usual her dancing is trancelike and she’s barely aware that she’s not alone on the floor. He can’t help watching her, the way her body undulates, feeling the heavy beat, the way her skin glistens under a fine sheen of sweat. A faint memory of how it felt to grip her bare hips in his hands as she moved above him whispers through his mind and he swallows hard. 

He wants her. He always has. 

He knows she’s been drinking. He’s been watching her all night and she’s been throwing them back pretty steadily. A year ago today Zak Adama died. She’s vulnerable, not in control of her emotions. She’s headed back to the Galactica tomorrow, her leave finally at an end and she’ll have to face the old man again, the pain of what she did still fresh in her heart. She’s trying not to think about it, trying to drink it away. 

The decision’s made and he weaves through the throng of people at the center of the floor and brushes against her. The moment his skin touches hers he feels electricity sizzling through every cell. He knows she feels it too because she loses her rhythm for a moment and turns to him, her eyes wide and a little glassy. 

“Sorry.” He shouts over the music, giving her his shyest smile. 

Her eyes scan him up and down, it only takes a second and then she smiles back a little drunkenly. “Why don’t you make it up to me by buying me a drink?”

With a slight tilt of his head he indicates that she should precede him to the bar. The dress she’s wearing is short and open at the back from her neck to her waist. It barely covers her ass. As they move away from the dancing mass of bodies he places his hand on the small of her back and hears her draw in a quick shuddering breath at the contact. He wants to keep hearing her make that sound.

“What’ll ya have?” He asks, his voice smoky and low. 

She glances at him from the corner of her eye and grins wickedly. “How about a ride home?” 

He can feel triumph coursing through his veins and he steels himself not to let it show on his face. “Your home…or mine?”

He feels her body press against his, smells the scent of her arousal. “Does it matter?”

With a quick shake of his head he grasps her hand and leads her outside to his car. She gives him her address and they leave the club behind. It’s late but the streets of Caprica City are still teeming with traffic. Luckily her apartment is close. 

They’re barely down the stairs before she’s got him pressed against the wall, her mouth covering his, her hands already working the buttons free on his crisp black shirt. He lets her have her way for the moment shrugging out of the garment and tossing it aside as she reaches for his belt. 

He’s hard, harder than this body has ever been, but he draws in a long, slow breath and concentrates on controlling his hunger. He wants this to last as long as it can, wants to savor it, savor her. He knows it’ll be a long time before he can be this close to her again. He knows that the next time he sees her they’ll connect, but it won’t be like this. Next time there’ll be blood and water and the cold vacuum of space. 

He’s seen it.

She’s worked his fly open by now and she shoves his trousers down his hips just enough so that she can free his erection and wrap her fingers around him. His groan seems to please her because she laughs, sliding her mouth along the corded vein in the side of his neck and a second later she starts pumping him, slowly.

No words pass between them for several minutes as she skims her mouth down his neck and across his torso; then she’s on her knees in front of him, her tongue snaking out to stroke the underside of his cock. He shudders and grasps a fistful of her short blonde hair.

“You like that?” she asks, brushing her tongue against the tip, tasting the pearly moisture that’s begun to gather there. 

He smiles sweetly at her, his blue eyes dark and hooded. “More than you can imagine.”

He holds her gaze for a long moment, thinks that maybe, just for a fraction of a second she remembers but then her eyes turn sly once more and without another word she drops her head and he feels her mouth engulf him. He can feel the head of his cock brushing the back of her throat as she works him with her mouth. It’s so good, so frakking good! Her tongue swirling, her teeth grazing, her fingers gripping him tight at the base-it’s all starting to be too much. He wants to tell her that he loves her, wants to tell her everything, but he knows he can’t. 

It’s not the time. 

His voice is hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken in a year. “It feels so good but…ya gotta stop.”

Slowly she slides her mouth off of him, swiping her tongue across the head once more for good measure before she lets him pull her back up to her slightly unsteady feet again. 

Before she can utter any of the saucy comments she keeps on hand for just such an occasion he’s grasped her by the upper arms and turned them both around. She can feel the rough paint of the mural on the wall against her bare back, but it’s warm from where he’d been pressing against it already and oddly it feels good. He kisses her, hard, his mouth slanting hot and wet over hers, his tongue thrusting between her teeth. She moans, reaching up to slide her fingers into the dark blonde hair at the nape of his neck and he shoves at the hem of her dress, his hands skimming the backs of her thighs then higher. 

She’s wearing panties but there’s not much to them and all it takes is one quick jerk and they’re dropping to the floor in a torn little heap. His fingers slide between her thighs. She’s so wet, so warm, so alive. He strokes her slowly, teasingly and she writhes against his hand. She wants more, demands it with every roll of her hips, every moan she utters. He slides one long finger inside her, then another and her grip on him tightens. 

“Gods, that feels so frakking good!” she manages to pant out between kisses and he smiles against her mouth as he starts thrusting his fingers into her harder. With his free hand he hooks one of her legs over his hip, tilting her pelvis a bit, making it deeper. Her breath is hitching, shuddering out of her and he knows she’s nearing the edge. 

She’s so beautiful. Her skin is flushed, damp with sweat and her eyes are locked on his. 

He could look at her forever. 

“I wanna watch you come.” He whispers the words hotly in her ear, his fingers still driving into her, his mouth moving down to nuzzle the soft skin of her neck. When his thumb thrusts up and rubs her clit he gets his wish. With a harsh gasp she contracts around him, orgasm rippling through her, her hips driving down hard against his hand. 

He watches her come back down, her head leaning against the wall, eyes closed. She needs a moment to rest. A moment is all she gets. Gently he pulls his fingers from her and she opens her eyes to look at him, her smile satisfied and faintly sleepy. He grins at her, sliding both of his palms around to cup her ass. Biceps flexing he lifts her against the wall easily and she wraps her legs around his waist as if they’d done this a million times before. He supposes that they have.

His mouth opens over hers again as he drives into her, liquid heat taking him deeper and deeper until he’s so close to her that they’re one person. She groans low and throaty and he knows that she’s never made that particular sound with anyone else.

“Do you like the way I feel inside you?” he asks the question as he pulls out and thrusts back in deep. She gasps, arching her hips toward him.

“Frak yes!”

His hips start to move a little faster and his voice is low at her ear. “Tell me what you want… tell me what you want me to do to you!”

She doesn’t hesitate. “I want you to frak me! Oh Gods! I want you to frak me so hard!” 

There’s a pleading in her voice, a need that goes beyond just physical pleasure and he knows what she’s really asking for. She wants him to take her without tenderness, without caring because it’s easier for her that way. It’s easier to lose herself in the heat and the rhythm. It’s easier to think that’s what she deserves. It’s easier to forget.

It won’t always be that way though. There will be a time when she realizes that love doesn’t have to be about pain and anger. There will be a time when she wants more than just this from him, when she gives more than this to him. 

But, now is not the time. Now, she just wants him to make her come again.

He thrusts harder, pulling out nearly all the way before driving back into her. She’s arching against him, twisting and trying to meet him thrust for thrust but he’s supporting her weight with his hands on her ass and the wall is at her back. She’s too restricted, too caged in. 

He feels her frustration and turns, taking her with him to the carpeted floor, pinning her beneath him. They’re kissing as soon as they land, mouths clashing, tongues licking. Her thighs flex against his hips and he starts moving again, grinding against her, feeling her nails digging into his shoulders, his back. 

One of his hands slips behind her neck, yanking at the thin tie of her dress; it gives easily and he pushes the soft, blue fabric out of his way, so that he can touch her breasts. Her nipples are hard, stabbing at his rough palms as he caresses her and she arches into his touch moaning.

His head dips, lips gliding along her collarbone, over the slope of one breast and then his tongue is teasing her nipple, tasting her flesh. One of her hands fists in his hair and his hips pick up their pace, pistoning back and forth between her open thighs. He can feel everything coiling tighter, moving closer to orgasm and he wants to bring her with him. 

He braces one of his forearms on the floor, taking some of his weight, allowing him to move more freely and with the other hand he grips her thigh, pulling her tight against him as he pumps into her harder and deeper. 

She’s gasping and bucking, moaning things he can’t really understand and he’s hammering his hips against hers. He feels her muscles tightening around him, feels the fine trembling that’s started in her legs and he knows that it won’t last much longer. 

His back is slick with sweat, flexing and moving under her hands. He licks a hot path up her neck to that soft spot behind her ear that makes her whimper and he sucks hard, bruising her pale skin, marking her. She won’t be able to remember his face tomorrow, he knows that, but he wants her to know that she’s his anyway. She always has been. She always will be. 

It’s God’s will.

 

“Yes! Oh Gods, yes…just like that! Don’t stop!” Her voice is strained, desperate and it brings him back to himself. The past, the future, none of it matters but this moment. Everything else will happen as it’s happened before…as it will happen again; He can’t change it. All he can do is bind himself to her in the only way that she will allow. It will be enough for now.

In one quick movement he rolls them over, reversing their positions and his hands settle on her hips, long fingers flexing against her warm skin. She sits up, bracing her hands on his bare chest, driving her body down as he thrusts up inside her. 

He tells her she’s beautiful, his voice half groan, half whisper. He isn’t even sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t make it any less true. He’s never seen anything as lovely as her. One of his hands reaches out to touch her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, caressing her lower lip. It’s a tender gesture, but it doesn’t stay tender for long. Her mouth opens and she licks his finger, drawing it deliberately between her lips, sucking it slowly the way she’d sucked his cock. He bucks up harder against her, and she gasps, drawing the wet digit from her mouth and shoving his hand down between their bodies. He knows what she wants and he doesn’t hesitate to give it to her. He circles her clit as her body strokes him, hot, wet velvet constricting him with each downward slide of her hips. 

They’re both so close and there’s not much time left. He knows what he has to do.

Without awkwardness or even a brief pause in their rhythm he levers himself up so he’s sitting now, his face only a breath away from hers. Both of his hands move to cup her ass, guiding her, driving her harder upon him and he kisses her, open mouthed and hungry. Her hands fist in his hair, its spiky style a little more disheveled than it had already been thanks to his sweat and her fingers. The way she’s gripping it feels so achingly familiar to him.

His voice breaks the pattern of their heavy breathing, “Mmmm…I need to feel you come again! Do it for me!”

It’s a demand and the hard edge in his voice when he issues it makes her hotter than she’d ever admit to anyone. She begins riding him harder, and his mouth captures one of her nipples, rolling the bud between his lips, grazing it with his white, even teeth. He can’t get enough of the taste of her skin.

They’re both panting, gasping and clutching at each other, hips grinding, mouths and tongues tangled together. This time when he slides a hand between them and strokes her clit she can’t hold on. She cries out, her breath and body both shuddering as her muscles tighten around him again and again. He can’t hold on either. He comes hard, erupting hotly inside her, grunting his completion against her neck as she milks him dry. 

They’re wrung out, limp but somehow after what seems like an hour they manage to get to their feet and she shoves the dress she’s barely still wearing completely off, unself-conciusly. He can’t help looking at her and she smirks, sliding one hand down to brush against his crotch before hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his trousers. She tugs him closer, kissing him. 

“After that I’d love to ask you to stay for a while but I’ve gotta be up early in the morning…duty calls. Sorry.”

He smiles softly at her, slipping his hand around her waist, splaying his long fingers possessively over her ass while his other hand cups the side of her face. “Believe me, I understand all about duty.” 

He kisses her again, his tongue teasing her, making her moan then he takes a step back, his hands reluctant to leave her.

“Maybe we can do this again some time.” 

“You know where I live.” 

He brushes his lips against hers one last time and scoops his discarded clothing off the floor, shoving arms in sleeves and refastening buttons as he moves slowly up the stairs. At the door he stops, looking down at her, glancing at the large mendala painted on the wall and he smiles. 

“I’ll see you soon.”

 

The End


End file.
